


Hurtling Through Time

by a_windsor



Series: Inevitable [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, Nyssa on the Waverider
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_windsor/pseuds/a_windsor
Summary: Sara and Nyssa are finally in the same place(s) at the same time(s). Rewrite of the second half of Season 2, where Nyssa al Ghul joins the crew. (follows An Inevitable Something)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The long-awaited follow-up to An Inevitable Something. We'll follow the plot of Legends for the first couple episodes after the crossover, but eventually Nyssa's presence will begin to alter the plot significantly. (I think you'll still be able to follow if you're a LOT newbie.) I hope everyone enjoys!

It is her new normal, but Nyssa still struggles to believe it is all real:

Waking from sleep with Sara wrapped around her middle, firmly.

Possessively.

It was her old normal, too, but that life feels like a dream now, hazy and distant. They were so young, and thought they were forever.

Now, she hurtles through time, always at Sara’s side, waking and sleeping. When she sees them, Sara’s crew is still struggling to know where she fits in, but she catches Sara staring at her in wonder, in awe, in joy, and then Nyssa knows this is where she needs to be.

Even if there are still the (more than) occasional bumps. The time they were separated (different lengths, another thing Nyssa is still wrestling with) is a mystery to both of them. In the last two weeks, neither of them has been quick to volunteer any of those details. Nyssa’s details are not particularly pleasant, and she has no desire to burst the rather adorable cloud Sara has been walking around on. Besides, when they are alone and able to discuss these things, very little… discussing… occurs.

On that note, Nyssa stretches as best she can while Sara’s arms are locked around her waist. The Waverider operates on a standard twenty-four hour wake/sleep schedule in an effort to maintain some semblance of normalcy. Even with all the extra physical activity she has been partaking in, Nyssa does not need this much sleep.

Sara does not, either, strictly speaking, but she’s never been one to turn down extra sleep when they are in a safe haven.

That is what this is, a safe haven hurtling through the time stream, this cabin, especially. In here, it is just them, and all the time (pardon the pun) in the world.

Gideon has already uploaded more data onto the tablet by the bed. With barely more than a few words passing between them, the AI has begun a basic introductory course to just _how_ any of this works.

For the second time in as many years, Nyssa feels _completely_ out of her element, struggling to build a life for herself so far from the future she was raised to expect: death, or the service of it.

After taking up the tablet, Nyssa wrestles her second hand free and gently threads her fingers through Sara’s messy hair. Things are clearer with Sara right beside her. The world makes some kind of sense. Sara has always been the center of her world, and there is a clarity in having that center present in her life again.

Sara mumbles a little in her sleep, turning her face towards Nyssa’s hand. Nyssa smiles, letting her palm brush across Sara’s cheek lightly before returning her attention to the basics of time travel.

 

***

 

“Oh my god, the Captain lives!” Jax teases as Sara enters the kitchen.

Sara rolls her eyes in response.

“I’m surprised you can even walk straight.”

“Shut up, Jax.”

“Captain or not, you can’t expect me not to give you hell when you shack up in your quarters for two weeks with a super hot assassin from your past.”

Sara keys in her order for coffee, then Nyssa’s.

“We’re not shacked up.”

“I’d believe that more if I saw her sometimes. Not that I blame you. Like I said - super hot. Please don’t hit me - I’ve seen Mick’s eye.”

“He deserved it.”

“Not surprised. The rest of us know how to be nice to company, though, you know.”

Sara raises an eyebrow.

“Okay - me’n’Gray. Me’n’Gray know how to be nice. Amaya, too.”

The word company strikes Sara as odd. That implies an end date, a transitory visit, and Sara didn’t intend that. She hopes Nyssa doesn’t intend that.

But she guesses she hasn’t done a good job of integrating Nyssa into the crew. The thought of that integration process, though, gives Sara headache.

“She’s not someone, well, she’s not _just_ someone from my past.” This is Jax, and if there’s anyone she can even sort of talk to about this, it’s him. “We were…” Sara searches for the proper word to describe them. ‘Girlfriends’ or ‘dating’ doesn’t really capture the epic nature of what they share, that feeling of inevitability. “Together. For five years.”

“Damn,” Jax loses his teasing grin. “That’s a long time, Sara. What happened?”

“I died. Again. For real.”

“That’s heavy.”

“Yeah…”

The coffees and a little breakfast are ready.

“So are y’all together again?” Jax asks.

Sara blows out a breath.

“I haven’t had enough coffee to answer that question.”

Because Jax is the best of them, he lets it lie there.

“Well, my point stands: we all want to get to know her. So stop hiding her.”

“Okay, okay.”

“And before we pick up another aberration.”

“Hey, who’s the captain here?” Sara gripes good-naturedly as she balances their breakfast in her arms and heads for the exit.

“Hard to say, ‘cause you’re hiding from your feelings and not being a grown up.”

“If being emotionally mature were a requirement, none of us would qualify. Not even Rip!”

Jax gives her that, grinning as she takes her leave.

 

***

 

“I admit, I remain unclear on the science behind the Vanishing Point.”

“Well, that’s better than me. ‘Cause I know nothing.”

_“Captain Lance is not as diligent in her studies as you are, Ms. al Ghul.”_

“No one asked you, Gideon,” Sara complains with a bit of a pout. She is cross-legged on the bed, fingers working at a set of braids.

Nyssa chuckles.

“You captain a ship hurtling through time without understanding the tenets that allow you to do so.”

_“Captain Lance is also the pilot.”_

“Gideon!”

Gideon is growing on Nyssa, quickly.

“Butt out, Gideon,” Sara says, waving her hand vaguely over her head.

_“My apologies, Captain. I will give you your privacy.”_

“Thank you,” Sara says firmly. She returns her attention to Nyssa, eyes softening as the annoyance drains from them. “Sorry I don’t know more. You should ask Jax at dinner tonight; he knows the technical stuff.”

“At dinner?” Nyssa asks, leaning over and laying her fingers over Sara’s, taking over for her on the right braid.

Sara flushes a little pink. “Yeah, I thought we could do a team dinner tonight.”

“If that is what you wish.”

“I mean, we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

Nyssa cuts her off with a kiss. She can feel Sara’s smile against her lips, relishes it, still marvels that she is free to kiss her whenever she wants again.

“So you are not hiding me anymore?”

“Oh my god, I’m not hiding you!”

“Mhmm.”

“I… don’t want to share you. That’s different.”

“Mhmm,” Nyssa repeats knowingly, tying off the braid.

“Stop that. My crew is embarrassing.”

“Your crew is your family, and I would appreciate a second chance for a first impression.”

Sara softens again. She’s been touchy since she came back from retrieving coffee, taking her good-natured teasing just a little too seriously. Now, though, she turns her complete focus to Nyssa, and Nyssa can feel herself bloom under the attention.

“When you put it that way. I think that ship has already sailed with Mick, though.”

“You did not have to blacken his eye.”

“Yeah, I did,” Sara remains steadfast.

Nyssa is not used to being looked after, to having her honor defended, but Sara is the only person, in space and time, that she will comfortably allow to fight her battles. She will not continue to fight Sara on this.

“Well, I hope we will not have a repeat of that interaction at dinner tonight.”

“Only if he didn’t learn his lesson.” Sara pauses, looks at Nyssa so sweetly, and leans in to kiss her. “I have to go. Jax and I have a standing walk through of the Waverider, make sure she’s running right. You should get out. Explore. ‘Cause I’m _not_ hiding you.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

 

***

 

Team dinner is going to have to wait, because they have what they apparently call an “aberration”, designated by a wailing alarm. From Nyssa’s studies, an aberration is when history has changed in some way from the established canon of time, and it can have wide-ranging effects.

This aberration appears to originate in Chicago, 1927, and involve Al Capone, a figure from American crime history, and Elliot Ness, a Federal Bureau of Investigation agent responsible for bringing him to justice.

Nyssa takes this opportunity to witness Sara’s team in action. So far, she is still working out the role each plays.

Nathaniel Heywood is the historian, it seems, in addition to a man capable of turning into steel. She learned the latter from Sara, with some vague handwaving surrounding a failed experiment from Dr. Palmer. Dr. Heywood has the self-important air of an academic, so his role as team historian is not surprising.

Dr. Raymond Palmer, of course, is familiar to Nyssa, though she had other things on her mind when they were last in each other’s orbits, things Nyssa sincerely hopes Raymond has not mentioned to Sara and has the good sense to continue not to. He is as overeager as ever, but she has seen the “Atom” suit in action, and it is an asset.

Dr. Martin Stein, the third and final doctorate aboard, is a strangely nervous man, and he seems very distractible. If Sara had not already informed her that he is an essential half of “Firestorm” with Jefferson Jackson, the ship’s mechanic and Sara’s closest confidante aboard, then Nyssa would have _many_ questions about just what he was doing aboard.

Nyssa had at first felt the pangs of jealousy when she got to know Jefferson, or “Jax”, this handsome, easy-going young man who has been such an important part of Sara’s recent life. She still wishes that she had Jax’s knowledge of who (and how) Sara has become, but beyond that, she is merely grateful for the strength of their bond, apparent to Nyssa even from her mere two weeks aboard and very rare interactions with him.

Mick Rory is, frankly, a criminal, but Nyssa supposes so is she, by some laws. He is crass and brutish, but Sara seems to care for him (despite blackening his eye for a lewd comment in Nyssa’s first days aboard) and he seems more than capable in a fight. He apparently also wields a gun of fire, which is certainly an asset.

Finally, there is Amaya Jiwe, the woman out of time, bearer of an ancient Zambesi totem that… well, Sara had been vague on the details, but essentially it allows her to channel the abilities of animals for her own gain. Nyssa is curious to see how that works in action, since she cannot wrap her mind around the theory of that magic.

And then, of course, there is her Sara, the Captain of this ragtag group of “Legends” hurtling through time, protecting the timeline as best they can. Nyssa is intrigued to observe Sara’s leadership style: she has always seen the potential in her Ta-er al-Asfer.

Sara chooses a conservative approach, quite reasonable from what Nyssa has read about timeline preservation. The fewer people involved, the better. She sends the bickering Ray and Nate off to intercept Agent Ness and keep him safe. She sends Jax and Professor Stein to be their back up, a solid choice given their unique nuclear abilities.

“Welcome to time travel,” Sara says, her nerves dancing under her skin, and Nyssa instantly regrets the way she must have been appraising everything around her. She relaxes her stance and even manages a wry smile to help ease her beloved’s discomfort.

“I look forward to seeing how this works.”

 

***

 

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the episode :D

So apparently the first mission since Nyssa came on board is going to be a colossal failure. Great.

First Nate and Ray whiff completely on meeting Ness at the train station, and then, despite her very clear orders, Stein lets Ness slip completely through his fingers.

“What the hell happened?” she demands, trying not to sound too angry. “How come you didn’t stop him?”

“I’m sorry. I got distracted,” Martin says half-heartedly, and Jax looks as mad as Sara is.

“By what?”

“Tell her, Gray,” Jax prods.

“It’s not the professor’s fault,” Nate intervenes. “Ray let Ness walk right into Capone’s hand.”

Sara tries not to groan. That sibling rivalry is killing her.

“They were police officers! And who’s to say they didn’t take him to the FBI like they said they would,” Ray defends.

Sara’s face hurts from all the glaring she is doing.

Nate goes into holier-than-thou historian mode. “Gideon, pull up the Chicago Chronicle. October 24, 1931.”

“Ah yes. The day Al Capone originally went down for tax evasion,” Gideon says.

Except the headline says ‘Mayor Capone’ and Sara might just kill her whole crew right now.

Time to try again, and locate Elliot Ness before Al Capone sends him to sleep with the fishes.

Sara feels weirdly nervous, handing out orders with Nyssa’s eyes on her. She’s so used to the other way around, and she can’t meet Nyssa’s eyes.

“And where would you like me?” Nyssa finally asks.

Fear runs cold through Sara’s veins.

“Here. On the ship.”

Sara risks looking at her.

The annoyance flashes hot on Nyssa’s face.

“There is no need to ‘bench’ me,” Nyssa says. “I am quite capable.”

Sara switches to Arabic, hoping to soothe her.

“You’ve never time traveled before. This is new. Observe from here.”

“I do not need to ‘observe’, Sara. This is no harder than-“

“No, Nyssa.”

“Habibti, don’t be-“

“Hey! This is _my_ ship. I give the orders, I run the ops, and _I_ say when rookies sit the first one out.”

Nate’s eyes widen, and he flushes. Crap, she forgot he could speak Arabic.

The rest of the team, despite not understanding the language, looks equally uncomfortable.

“Very well, Captain,” Nyssa says, still in Arabic.

Sara’s won, but she doesn’t really feel like it.

“Okay. Everyone’s got their orders. Let’s roll out.”

The team hurries off the bridge, leaving Sara and Nyssa alone.

Traitors.

“Just this one,” Sara says, even though she isn’t sure she can keep that promise.

“I understand,” Nyssa says, but it also sounds like a lie.

“Easy peasy. I’ll be back before you know it,” Sara says. “And I’ll be _safe_. I promise.”

The fear is back; Nyssa has already lost her once, and this feels cruel. But it’s a simple mission, and Sara can’t worry about both her crew _and_ Nyssa simultaneously. Not yet.

Sara ventures a kiss. Nyssa allows it.

“I’ll kill you if you die again,” Nyssa says bravely.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

 

***

 

Yeah, so, Nyssa is going to kill her.

The fight down at the docks had gone fine. They saved Ness (uh, _just_ in time) from sleeping with the fishes. When they returned to the Waverider, Sara had even managed a cheeky little “See? Easy peasy?” to Nyssa, which was clearly premature. While Ness’s brain damage is being fixed in the med bay, she, Jax, and Stein go undercover at some club Nate swears is a speak-easy to cover Nate and Ray’s attempt to get Capone’s ledger and preserve the timeline.

She leaves Amaya to babysit a cranky Mick and, less explicitly, Nyssa.

A few more Team Legends fuck-ups later, and she and Stein are now “guests” of the Speedster and Damien Darhk, and Nyssa is probably not happy at all.

Sara pulls on her bonds, the thoughts of Nyssa waiting for her on the ship making her anxious.

“Martin, whatever you do, do not mention our newest crew member,” Sara says, as lowly as possible.

“So she is a crew member now,” Stein remarks.

“Martin,” Sara hisses. “I get that you and Jax share a brain, and that you biddies are currently obsessed with that part of my life, but _not right now_.”

Stein says nothing, nods. After a moment he says:

“Not a word, Captain. You have _my_ word.”

That eases some of Sara’s worry. No need to tempt the bad guys with knowledge of Ra’s al Ghul’s daughter aboard the Waverider. (Ra’s al Ghul’s daughter, and the greatest weakness Sara has left.)

Nyssa is still going to kill her, though.

When Malcolm Freaking Merlyn walks in, Sara thanks whoever might be watching out for them that she gave Martin that warning.

Merlyn offers her a clean slate in exchange for the amulet, which just tells her how much the Speedster needs it. He promises that he’ll make the Queen’s Gambit never happen. She can settle down and be normal.

And as tempting as it is to save Laurel that pain, and god, that death, Sara isn’t meant to be “normal”, and time isn’t meant to be bent to one person’s will. (And no League means no Nyssa, a life Sara is absolutely done leading.)

“That was remarkably selfless,” Stein says when they are alone together again.

“I had a good teacher,” Sara says warmly, half-paying attention as she tries to find a way out of here. On a day like today, she doesn’t exactly trust her team to mount a _successful_ heroic rescue, even if Nyssa…

Fuck. Nyssa.

“Ah yes, Captain Hunter,” Martin says.

“No, Martin,” Sara says, “I meant you.”

Now Martin looks guilty, and as he confesses to creating an aberration in the form of his _daughter_ , Sara doesn’t have anymore time to worry about whether or not Nyssa will be a part of the rescue team, and what exactly could happen if she is.

 

***

 

Nyssa is a free agent, an unknowable variable as Gray would say, and Jax tries to keep an eye on her without staring too much. God knows what would happen if he got caught staring.

But he can see the pain in her eyes, the worry. He doesn’t know much about Nyssa and Sara’s history, but he knows enough to know this must be incredibly hard for her.

He’s heard the rumbling from the rest, from Gray even, about having an assassin aboard. Jax doesn’t see that, though. She’s scary, for sure, but her loyalty to Sara is obvious to everyone in a fifty mile radius.

“They’re gonna be fine,” Jax says into the semi-awkward silence.

Nyssa looks up sharply. Jax had revealed that he was staring, and she is predictably annoyed.

“Sara can take care of herself, and Gray’s smart as hell. The others will have them back here in no time.”

“Mm. I would feel more sure of that if I were actually joining the others.”

“Yeah,” Jax grimaces. “Captain’s orders. Gideon’s pretty strict about that.”

Nyssa had _of course_ tried to join the rescue party, but when she tried to leave with them, Gideon had locked her on the bridge. If Gideon were capable of being murdered, she’d for sure be dead right now. Jax had been lingering to check in with her when the doors slammed shut, so he is stuck there, too. The fact _he’s_ not murdered honestly speaks pretty highly of Nyssa.

“They probably want the amulet,” Jax says.

“The amulet?”

“Yeah, Sara stole it from Damien Darhk a while back. We haven’t figured out what it is, yet. But if Darhk wants it, it can’t be good.”

Nyssa nods. There’d been, however brief, a look of terror on Nyssa’s face when Jax had announced earlier that Darhk had Sara. Jax isn’t sure what Nyssa’s history with Darhk is (he knows Darhk is at least League-adjacent), but with that look, she knows enough.

“Indeed.”

They listen as Mick and Amaya play criminal to get the rest of them into Capone’s stronghold. They steal a truck full of contraband in Mick’s usually … subtle… style, and Nyssa relaxes enough to ask:

“Is he always like that?”

“Always,” Jax confirms.

Micks fits in scary well with these 20s gangster types.

The four on the rescue mission, Mick, Amaya, Nate, and Ray, bicker about fault and plans. The objectives are clear: get their people, get the ledger. The hows on the other hand…

He steals a look at Nyssa while he anxiously drums on the console.

She relaxes when Amaya finds Sara uninjured. Now, though, Jax is even more worried about Gray, since he isn’t with Sara.

Nate and Ray secure the ledger. Sara and Amaya find Gray, and since nothing _ever_ goes smooth, the whole team walks right into a bunch of Capone’s machine guns.

Jax is still observing Nyssa. She manages to be eerily still, eerily composed, but the tension is heavy in the air.

But a few good punches from Mick and Sara end it quickly (as they do most things), and the team heads back to the ship. Nyssa doesn’t look too relieved, though, and Jax’s gotta say that makes him nervous.

 

***

 

Gideon lets Jax and Nyssa out of the bridge when Sara and the rest get back, and Sara feels the guilt as soon as she sees her in the hallway. Nyssa looks angry, but the kind that covers her fear, and _god_ , Sara made her feel that again. She nods to Jax, who nods back and then busies himself checking on Martin.

“We’ll meet you on the bridge,” she tells everyone else.

They murmur their assents, and finally, Sara and Nyssa are alone in the hall.

“I know you’re mad-“

But Nyssa shakes her head and pulls Sara into her arms. Sara feels herself relax and buries her face in Nyssa’s shoulder. Nyssa might be mad, and scared, but at least she’s _safe_.

“Later,” Nyssa says softly. “Later, I have _many_ words for you. But right now, Captain, we still have a crisis to attend to.”

Before, in the heat of the argument, “Captain” had felt cold and reproachful. Now, it warms her with pride.

“Right,” she says as she pulls away. She feels her hands on Nyssa’s forearms, grounded by the touch.

“You are uninjured?” Nyssa asks, eyes raking down every inch of her.

Sara pushes up on her toes to kiss Nyssa warmly. Nyssa sighs softly against her mouth.

“Not a scratch,” Sara promises. She pffts. “I can handle Malcolm Merlyn.”

Fire flashes in Nyssa’s eyes, and Sara does love that look, even though she does her best to quell it now.

“We’ll take care of him,” Sara promises. “Eventually.”

“I should have killed him years ago,” Nyssa says. “Justice for you remains undone.”

“For both of us,” Sara corrects. “He kept you locked up like-“

She can’t finish. She left Nyssa in that dungeon, and though they’ve talked about it, it still feels like one of the many things that remain unresolved between them.

“Your crew awaits,” Nyssa changes the subject. She pulls away, headed towards the bridge. “Time must be set right.”

“Yeah. And I’m done with letting Nate and Ray run this show.”

 

***

 

Mind back on the mission, Nyssa at her side, they head back to the bridge. Sara’s worried about Martin: enraging aberration aside, she’d been terrified when they took him to torture him, and shocked when he came back relatively unscathed, despite the screaming. He does seem incredibly disoriented, though.

“Discombobulated,” he’d said as Amaya and Jax helped him sit down.

Nate and Ray are slapping each other on the back, of course, and Sara cuts them off.

“Okay, the celebrating seems a little premature.”

“We still need an ID on the Speedster,” Amaya says.

“Who has now added _Malcolm Merlyn_ to his team of time traveling psychos. They wanted the amulet that I took off Darhk in 1987.”

Sara catches Nyssa giving Jax an approving nod, which Jax returns, though he seems preoccupied with Stein’s condition.

“What would someone with the Speedster’s power want with an ancient artifact?” Nate asks.

“Perhaps, perhaps I should take a look at the amulet,” Martin offers, struggling to his feet. “I may be able to unlock some of its mysteries.”

“Alright,” Sara agrees. Once he’s left, Sara surveys the rest of the crew.

Nyssa is making a Face.

“What?”

“It seems odd you got away so easily.”

Ray and Nate object. Mick laughs.

“Malcolm Merlyn may be a stain upon the League's record, but he is no fool.”

“So what? You think it’s a trap?” Sara asks. Annoyed at her or not, Sara trusts Nyssa’s instincts. Unflinchingly.

“That seems likely. He _is_ the Magician. And Damien Darhk is as slippery.”

“Okay, but what kind of trap?” Ray asks. “We’ve got our people and even if they followed us here, the Waverider is sealed up tight. They can’t get in.”

“Fine,” Sara says. “I want everyone on high alert. Let’s figure out what they could gain by letting us go.”

 

***

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re quiet,” Sara says once it’s just her and Jax on the bridge, Nyssa headed down to the mess for tea.

“Yeah. Worried about Gray.”

“Tell me about it. Keep an eye on him, yeah?”

Jax nods.

“Sorry you got locked on the bridge,” Sara follows up.

“It is _not_ me you should be apologizing to,” Jax says pointedly.

“Yeah, I know,” Sara sighs. “After.”

Jax shrugs.

“I like her, though. I mean, she’s not exactly chatty, but…”

Sara smiles.

“Yeah. I like her, too.”

Jax rolls his eyes and grins: “Get a room.”

 

***

 

Sara goes to get that room, but Nyssa isn’t there, so she changes into more comfortable clothes than the mission’s flapper get up and heads to the library to check on Stein. She guesses she should do some captaining.

“How are you feeling?” she asks when she finds him bent over a book.

“I’m alright.”

Sara studies him, sighs. She doesn’t want to have this talk, the ‘you caused an aberration, that aberration is a _person_ , we’ve gotta undo it’ talk.

“Look,” Sara says, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I know you’ve been through a lot, but we really need to talk about the aberration that you caused.”

Martin’s face twitches a little as he says:

“Perhaps some other time.”

Sara narrows her eyes, a bad feeling in her gut.

“Martin. You’ve been acting… pretty different, ever since Darhk tortured you. Did they offer you a deal, like they did me? ‘Help us and we won’t hurt your daughter’?”

“My daughter?”

God, Sara wishes she’d brought more knives.

Nate and Nyssa walk in then, and all it takes is one look at Nyssa to confirm Sara’s feeling.

“Sara?” Nate does his best to play it cool, but he should have let Nyssa do the talking. “We were just on the bridge with Jax, and, um, he wanted to talk to you about… ship stuff.”

“Ship stuff?” Sara can’t help but needle him as she starts to head to the door, keeping an eye on Nyssa, who nods almost imperceptibly, a hand on a blade in her pocket.

Stein grabs her arm. “I’m sure Jax can wait.”

Sara is even more worried, now, and Nyssa is hair-trigger.

“Since when do you call him Jax?”

“Habibti, he’s the - “ Nyssa starts to say in Arabic, but they’re all three on their backs in the corner of the library before she can finish, her blade clanging uselessly out of reach.

Stein begins to vibrate, revealing himself as the Speedster instead.

Sara reaches a hand out to make sure Nyssa’s okay, and the Speedster runs off.

Sara takes a second to catch her breath, and Nyssa helps her to her feet.

“I should have -“ she begins.

“Speedster,” Sara shakes her head. “Even _you_ aren’t faster than a Speedster, babe. You okay, Nate?”

Nate nods, and then their day gets worse.

“ _Cloaking shield disengaged,_ ” Gideon announces. “ _Cargo bay door now opening._ ”

“Oh, great. An invasion,” she groans. “Nate, go figure out what the hell is happening on the bridge. Nyssa, you wanted a little action?”

Sara hits the hidden trigger for the library’s weapons cache and hands Nyssa a handgun and two clips. Sara loves the look of distaste that crosses Nyssa’s face.

“I know. We’ll start stocking up on bows, okay? Now let’s go shoot up some gangsters.”

 

***

 

Sara’s gotta say, she did miss kicking ass with Nyssa. This crippling fear every time a bullet gets close to her, however, is new and not fun at all.

“This is all so loud and inelegant,” Nyssa complains over the machine gun chatter, getting off a few more rounds.

“That’s my girl,” Sara can’t help but grin.

Then she sees Merlyn, and all smiles disappear. Nyssa sees him, too, but Sara says, loudly, “No.”

Nyssa’s face darkens, but she does not move.”

“Go to the med bay.”

“I will not leave you,” Nyssa argues.

“ _Go_. I need _you_ to guard Ness. _Please_.”

Nyssa’s jaw sets as if she’ll argue, but instead she nods and obeys, though her eyes reiterate _later_.

“Guys,” she comms. “I could use some back up here.” She changes her clip and fires off some more cover fire. Nate and Ray are headed her way, and she’s happy to let Steel and the Atom take on the bullets.

She’s got bigger prey to hunt, before he can do any more damage.

 

***

 

Predictable as ever, Merlyn makes it to Rip’s office off the bridge, cool, collected, alone. Sara’s waiting above to make her move. He rifles through a few papers before she drops, oh-so-quietly, behind him.

“The League taught you well,” he says before turning to her. “But unless you hand over the amulet, I’m going to have to teach yo a few new lessons.”

“Those who cannot do, teach,” Sara quips, before kicking him, hard.

He is Al Saher, however, and he gives as good as he gets. He slams her into a table. She throws him out of the office. (He glances painfully off the wall as he flies into the bridge, and Sara truly appreciates that.) A few more blows are exchanged in the wider space of the bridge, and then he brings a knife to a fist fight.

He has her against the wall, hand to her neck, knife in her face.

“I gave you an out,” he growls. “A chance at a better life.”

“Already found a better life,” she grits. She thinks of Nyssa. Thinks of her crew. “One without you in it.”

She throws an elbow to the arm holding the knife, brings that same hand back to punch him hard in the face. Several more punches follow when she thinks of all the pain he has caused Nyssa, all the things he has stolen from her love.

The final punch sends him sprawling to his stomach. She grabs the knife and jumps on his back, knife to his throat. Justice feels close.

“What about your friend, Martin Stein?” the snakes hisses.

“Where is he?” she demands, her duty to her crew vying with her thirst for justice. She tightens the blade at his throat. His death probably wouldn’t screw up the timeline, she thinks, since this handless Merlyn knows Laurel is dead, has already been defeated and disgraced.

“My dear,” he croaks. “That information comes at a cost.”

Of course it does.

She almost screams in frustration.

And then she makes a decision. A decision she knows Nyssa is going to hate.

 

***

 

The throwing knives take down Capone and his guys easily enough, just in time to keep Stein from sleeping with the fishes.

“The Speedster,” Martin says, “How did you defeat him?”

“I didn’t,” Sara says, untying him quickly and helping him down from his precarious position with his back to the water. “I made him a counter offer.” She sighs, looking Martin in the eye. “I gave him the amulet.”

 

***

 

Ray and Nate set a healed Ness on his path to taking down Capone for tax evasion, ledger in hand. Sara makes sure Nyssa is okay, but Nyssa begs off her concern, slipping past her back to her quarters. To avoid that confrontation, Sara goes to check on Martin in the library again. She thinks it’ll go better this time.

“My evil doppelgänger left quite a mess. It will take me weeks to reorganize my notes.”

“Well, it’s good to have you back. The real you.”

“Thanks to your efforts. Though, I have to say I’m a bit puzzled.”

“Professor Stein? Puzzled?” she grins.

“Protecting history is our team’s raison d’être. Yet you traded the amulet to our enemies, which will no doubt have countless repercussions on history.”

“I’m starting to think that some things are more important than history.” Sara pauses. “You know, you, me, this team… We’re a family. A messed up one, but… still a family. Now I might not be able to save Laurel, but I can protect this family, and that includes yours. What’s her name?”

“Lily.”

“Lily. It’s a beautiful name,” she smiles.

“And how are things with our newest crew member?” Martin asks, wryly but gently.

Sara groans.

“Ah, yes. Well, take it from someone _frequently_ in the dog house himself: a heartfelt apology goes a long way.”

“Yeah,” Sara says. “But they’re the _worst_.”

Martin chuckles.

“They can be. I must say, if only from Jefferson’s descriptions and impressions, she seems more than capable of handling herself. And she certainly seems more suited for the delicate work of time travel than, say, Mr. Rory.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…”

“Love her,” Martin says simply. “And the thought of those we love in danger can be overwhelming.”

Sara’s heart constricts.

“Yeah.”

“Perhaps you should tell her as much.”

“Yeah.”

“ _Now_ ,” Martin prods. “If you wish to end the cold shoulder.”

“Fine, fine,” Sara accepts, standing. “You and Jax are the worst.”

Martin chuckles on her way out.

 

***

 

There is Louis Armstrong playing in her quarters. Nyssa’s favorite.

Her love of Satchmo’s improvisational style was one of her little rebellions against her regimented father: her father restricted food - Nyssa secreted it away to eat later; her father taught the cool, controlled classics - Nyssa slipped the King of Scat on an old record player in her quarters.

Once, Sara had thought she was just one of Nyssa’s little rebellions against a father full of rules, norms, and expectations. And maybe she was, at the start. It had evolved into something so much more, though. Something Sara’s can’t dare risk losing again.

She knocks on the door as it opens.

“These are your quarters,” Nyssa objects.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me.”

“Mm.”

“You and Gideon make up yet?”

“She was merely following orders.”

“ _My_ orders.”

“Yes.”

“So do we need to make up?”

Nyssa beckons her in from the doorway, and Sara complies.

The door slides shut behind her.

 

***

 

Sara, all messy curls and messy nerves, still lingers in the doorway, back to the closed door.

She is beautiful and vibrant, at the end of a day Nyssa spent reliving her death, anticipating the loss of her _again_. Part of Nyssa wants to go to her, soothe her nerves, revel in her presence. Most of her, though, is still very, very angry.

“Do you even want me here, Sara?”

“What?! Yes, of course.”

“To what end? To keep me locked away in your quarters, safe from any imaginable harm?”

“No, no! I just - I mean, can you blame me? I can’t lose you.”

“This has never been a problem before. And we lived a very dangerous life.”

Sara sighs.

“Because I didn’t care if I lived or died then, and you were… untouchable. Indestructible.”

“But no longer.”

Sara winces, but insists:

“No one is. If Laurel isn’t, no one is.”

“Habibti,” she says gently. She does stand now, crosses to her and puts her hand to the elbow of one of Sara’s crossed arms. “I too feel her loss acutely.”

“I know,” Sara nods, and the quaver in her voice says tears threaten.

“But you cannot keep me a prisoner on your ship.”

Sara looks up sharply at the phrasing, and a reassuring dawn of realization crosses her face.

Nyssa presses on.

“I tire of others making decisions for me.” She pauses, not wishing to elaborate. Sara, distracted by her guilt, doesn’t inquire further. “I tire of hearing you in danger and being powerless to do anything about it. I trust no one else to watch your back. Especially you, shall we say, inexperienced team.”

Sara cracks a smile, and Nyssa does appreciate that.

“I’m sorry. Really. I messed up. I was just… scared, Nyssa. Really, really scared. But you’re right. We’re better as a team. You can come in the field and watch my six.”

“I _am_ very fond of the view.”

Sara grins, but then it falls.

“You can come in the field, but I don’t want you around Merlyn at all. I don’t want him to know you’re here.”

Nyssa’s anger flares again.

“Sara, you need not hide me from Merlyn.”

“Hey. No. I just don’t want to play all my cards yet,” Sara says, and it sounds genuine. The sting of being shunted aside so often today has not faded, however. “You and Merlyn have a history, and I promise we’ll take care of him. When the time’s right.”

“You promised that before,” Nyssa says. It’s her turn to cross her arms. “And yet, despite having your knife to his throat, the Traitor lives.”

She backs away, and Sara’s brow wrinkles in consternation.

“I had to trade him for Martin’s life,” Sara defends.

“As well as an artifact greatly desire by Merlyn, Darhk, and the Speedster. The deal seems rather one-sided.”

“Hey! This team is my family. They aren’t expendable soldiers. They didn’t pledge to die for the Demon. I want to defeat the Speedster and keep my team alive. And my team comes first,” Sara fights back.

Her valid points hit true, as infuriating as it is. This is her ship, her rules, and Nyssa must play by them if she is to stay aboard.

“I apologize. It is not my place to question your decisions.”

“Nyssa…” Sara’s anger deflates.

“I am no longer your superior, Taer al Asfer.”

“Yeah, but you’re still… mine.”

Nyssa feels herself softening.

“Am I?” she steps back in, and she watches Sara relax.

“No matter what,” Sara promises. “Which is why I acted like a crazy jerk and tried to put you in a protective bubble.”

“Apology accepted. So long as you remember that I could handily defeat you at any opportunity..”

“Oh really now?” Sara arches her brows. “You’re saying you could kick my ass?”

“Always,” Nyssa teases her, grabbing the front of her jacket and pulling her closer.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that tomorrow. Bright and early in the training room.”

Sara comes willingly, and soon they are hip to hip.

“Why not now?” Nyssa asks, feigning innocence, even as Sara’s arms wind around her neck.

“You know exactly why not now,” Sara shakes her head as she brings her lips to Nyssa’s.

 

***

 

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

***

 

Later, sitting on her bed against the wall, watching Nyssa stretched on her belly so comfortably in front her, Sara confesses:

“Merlyn offered me a chance to change my history. In exchange for the amulet. I’ve had those before, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Nyssa asks. Twice, because the first time is muffled by the pillow she’s resting on.

“I mean, that temptation is a hazard of time travel. But I’ve been given a lot of opportunities to not get on that damn boat with Oliver,” Sara clarifies.

Her fingers walk up Nyssa’s spine, and she grins despite the subject matter. Nyssa twists back to look at her. Her hair falls in waves behind her, and it’s these moments when Sara feels how acutely she missed her.

“Why didn’t you take any of them?”

“A lot of reasons, honestly. But mostly - you.”

She loves that soft look in Nyssa’s warm brown eyes. She _loves_ Nyssa.

“If I didn’t get on the Gambit, Ivo would have still done awful things, and maybe he’d have been successful. Shado could have still died, and Slade… But what I definitely know is that if I skipped the Gambit, I would have _never_ met you. And that’s something I couldn’t live with. Not ever.”

“I remain honored by that, habibti.”

Sara smiles, then suddenly remembers. She kisses between Nyssa’s shoulder blades and then jumps out of bed.

Nyssa sits up, and Sara pauses in rummaging in the drawers under her bed long enough to grin at the view. Nyssa rolls her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“One sec.”

“Sara.”

“One sec!”

There it is. She pulls the cigar box (swiped from Rip’s office years ago) out and puts it on the bed. It’s a little chilly, so she grabs the closest discarded shirt (Nyssa’s, she happily notes) and slips into it.

“This is for you,” she says.

Nyssa has half-heartedly pulled the sheet up against the same chill.

“What is it?”

“It - well, they - are things I’ve been collecting for you. Little things that made me think of you, throughout time.”

“You’ve collected them. For me?”

Sara nods, then realizes what that means at the same time Nyssa does:

Sara always expected to see Nyssa again.

Nyssa looks so touched that Sara kinda feels like an asshole. For waiting for so long. For making Nyssa doubt they’d ever see each other again.

They go through them together, trinkets of the type they’d always brought each other from their League travels, just from separate time periods. She tells the stories behind them, team antics and history jokes, and Sara wonders how it took her so damn long to do this.

Until this moment, this all felt like a dream, or a vacation, rather than her new reality. She vows now to do everything she can to make this stick, including doing her best to remove her head from her ass and stop pulling an Oliver.

“I do want you here. This team is my family, and I want you to be a part of that,” she lays it out.

“I would like that very much,” Nyssa says softly, and Sara grins.

“And I do want your advice on this whole Captain thing. You have a lot more experience. This isn’t the League, but I do value your opinion.”

“Well, my first piece of advice is to stop letting me openly disregard the chain of command simply because we are… us.”

“Guess we’ve switches roled. No more playing favorites - got it. No special favors ‘cause you’re banging the Captain.”

“Sara.”

Sara grins cheekily: “Well, you are.”

“It also means you must be willing to send me into any situation and utilize my strengths. Which are considerable.”

“Of course,” Sara laughs to cover the lingering fear in that realization.

“Additionally -“

“Jeez, I really opened the floodgates on this one.”

Nyssa reproaches her with a look.

“Your team.”

“What about them?”

“They _must_ be trained. Immediately. They are… a mess, habibti.”

Sara wants to defend them, but can’t.

“Okay. Sure. We’ll train them. Just be patient. They aren’t League recruits.”

“I shall try,” Nyssa sighs. “We - you - also need to establish a chain of command beyond just you. I think Jax would be best as your second, but Ms. Jiwe is also well-qualified-“

“What about you?”

She can give Nyssa an order, but she really can’t imagine anyone else doing it…

Nyssa shakes her head, though.

“I am a newcomer, an interloper. I must find my own place as a member of the team, not be elevated above them simply because-“

“You’re banging the captain?”

Nyssa turns the tables on her, eyes twinkling instead of rolling: “Precisely.”

“Okay. I guess we can do that.” She pauses. “It’s really, really nice to have you here.”

Nyssa smiles, and Sara can’t help but kiss her.

 

***

 

‘Morning’ finds the Waverider, and everyone wanders out of their quarters looking for breakfast, and most importantly, caffeine. Noise in the cargo bay draws the whole crew’s attention away from the mess, though, and one by one they make their way to the growing crowd at the door.

Inside, the Waverider’s two (former) League assassins have bos in hand, exchanging blows.

“Are they… fighting?” Ray asks.

“Sparring,” Jax clarifies.

“Pretty sure it’s like foreplay for them,” Mick says. He’s munching on some popcorn he brought for the occasion.

“Don’t you like having vision in your right eye?” Amaya asks, reproachful but gentle, too, and Mick grins at her.

“I’ve never seen anyone keep up with Sara like that,” Nate says.

“I believe it is the Captain who is keeping up with Ms. al Ghul,” Martin says.

He’s right: Sara’s holding her own, but Nyssa is clearly the better of them.

“Nyssa did teach Sara everything she knows,” Jax says. “That’s how they met.”

“Ah-ha. Hot for teacher,” Mick chuckles. “Ow.”

“Just doing it before Sara can,” Jax shrugs.

“Sara _really_ doesn’t like it when you do that, Mick,” Ray adds.

Mick grumbles but curtails his comments.

There’s a beauty (albeit a lethal one) in the way they spar. It almost looks choreographed, all leaps and spins and really, really hard hits. After a few near misses (two of which draw gasps from the assembled crew), their Captain is finally on her back, bo staff held to her chest.

“I told you I could still best you,” Nyssa says, smiling for the first time most of the crew has ever seen.

“And at my own weapon,” Sara complains as she takes Nyssa’s offered hand and is pulled to her feet.

“Yes, imagine if it were swords we’d chosen,” Nyssa teases.

“We’ve got an audience,” Sara gestures towards her entranced crew.

Nyssa turns to them all.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Because every single one of you needs more training before I will go into the field with you. Training begins after lunch.”

“Hey wait-“

“Captain’s orders,” Sara grins, leaning on her bo.

“Those of you with superpowers rely far to heavily on them, and you must learn to fight _as a team_. Dr. Palmer, your suit is a tool, not the source of your power. You must learn to fight and then let the suit become an extension of you.”

“Hey, Oliver said that to me once,” Ray grins.

“I suppose Mr. Queen cannot be wrong every single time he opens his mouth,” Nyssa notes, then she turns to Jax and Stein. “Jefferson, you too must learn to fight without your powers first. You as well, Professor. In fact, you’ll need to learn to fight together. You will be tied together at all times.”

“Wait, what?!” Jax cries, while Stein just looks bewildered.

“Mr. Rory, you at least have considerable bulk and raw brawling powers.”

Mick nods his appreciation of her assessment, then his face falls into a scowl as she continues:

“Your strategy needs considerable work, however. Dr. Heywood, it would certainly be beneficial if you learned how to do something besides turning to steel and standing in front of moving objects.”

Sara is holding her laughter in as best she can, but Nate’s face is making it so hard.

“Ms. Jiwe.”

Amaya’s spine straightens as she readies herself to accept any and all constructive criticism. It is likely her time with this team has made her sloppy.

“I have no complaints yet. But I would appreciate the chance to understand more about your totem’s abilities. And we must all learn to fight together. Do what you think you must to prepare. It will not be adequate.”

 

***

 

The crew disperses, murmuring about the upcoming training. Sara heads off with Jax for their usual walkabout. Nyssa decides that if she is to fully integrate into this crew, there is one conversation she must have first. She finds her quarry alone in the mess, getting a second cup of coffee.

“Raymond.”

“Oh hey, Nyssa. It’s been good to see you again. What can I do for you?”

“That’s what I wished to speak about.” She wishes she did not need to have this conversation, but she must know what Sara knows. “Have you ever spoken to Sara about your time in Nanda Parbat?”

“No, not really,” he says, after a pause where he seems to try to remember. “She knows I’ve been there, I think, and maybe that I met you. But that’s it.”

“So nothing of my… marriage?”

His eyes turn from earnest to sympathetic, and she hates that.

“No. That’s not mine to tell. And if I may add - _totally_ not okay. _Really_ not okay.”

Nyssa blinks. No one has ever said that to her, and it feels… something.

“I don’t know if she knows. I have no indication that anyone in Star City ever told her.”

“Yikes. Not even Oliver?”

Nyssa’s eyes express her opinion on that matter.

“Fair enough. Well, she won’t hear of it from me. I promise. Teammate to teammate.”

She’s touched by the sincerity.

“Thank you.”

“She should hear about it from you, though.”

Yes. Eventually.

 

***

 

“There’s a new player on Team Loser,” the Speedster announces.

“What do you mean?” Merlyn asks. He didn’t find any of the people he encountered on the Waverider particularly interesting, besides, perhaps, the captain.

“A woman. Tall. Beautiful. Dark hair. Unplaceable accent. Actually seems competent.”

Merlyn can’t decide if he is more excited or annoyed when he asks:

“Maybe looking particularly close to Sara Lance?” Merlyn asks. That could explain a lot about this interactions with the wayward canary. He rubs his jaw.

“Sure,” the Speedster shrugs.

Merlyn shares a look with Damien Darhk.

“Nyssa al Ghul.”

Recognition sparks in Damien’s eyes since Merlyn has caught him up on some details of the League’s demise: “The last Ra’s al Ghul.”

“You know her?” the Speedster asks.

“The bane of my existence,” Merlyn complains, then adds more helpfully: “And Sara Lance’s lover. Though the last I heard, that was past tense.”

“And the daughter of the man who was Ra’s al Ghul for most of the last couple centuries,” Damien says. “And the last holder of the ring of Ra’s al Ghul.”

“ _Destroyer_ of the ring of Ra’s al Ghul,” Merlyn adds bitterly.

“Oh, and the reason our friend here is down an appendage,” Damien chimes in.

“I thought that was the Green Arrow,” the Speedster says.

“He swung the sword, but it was Nyssa’s doing,” Merlyn says.

That reminds him… His mood begins to brighten. Well, now, the possibilities are endless.

 

***

 

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

Nyssa believes that her and Sara’s training regiment has been beneficial both to the team’s ability to protect itself as well as their unit cohesion. In fact, she is quite pleased that Ray, Nate, and Amaya discovered the purpose of the two amulets through teamwork.

She simply wishes they had not done so at _three in the morning_.

Nyssa does not sleep much, but 3:00AM is certainly sleeping time, and at the least, it is laying entwined in Sara’s warm embrace time.

She takes pride in the fact that she didn’t kill any of them upon being summoned to the library.

She leans against the side of (a very grumpy) Sara’s chair as Nate explains the identity of their mystery medallions. Or, rather, medallion. Singular.

Nyssa knows the story on Longinus well enough. Roman centurion who pierced the side of Christ on the cross. Jax supplies the more mystical back story.

“Yeah, he was, uh, blind,” Jax says, blinking sleep from his own eyes. “And got the blood of Jesus in his eyes, then he could see again.”

“Look at you,” Nate praises, a tad condescending for Nyssa’s taste.

“What?” Jax shrugs. “I went to Sunday School.”

“Right,” Nate continues his pacing lesson. “Now that blood allegedly got on the medallion and empowered both it, and the spear, with magical powers.”

“Well, why does the Legion of Doom want the medallion?”

Sara, who still manages to command the room although she is cross-legged in her sweats, raises a halting hand and inquires: “Legion of Doom?!”

Her distaste echoes Nyssa’s own feelings.

“Yeah,” Nate grins, as Ray shakes his head: “Don’t ask.”

Nate continues his lecture, and the gist is: the medallion calls the Spear of Longinus and takes the bearer to wherever it is.

“The Spear is also known as the Holy Lance, or the Spear of Destiny.”

This sounds like one of her father’s trips into the farther end of the occult. Or, as Sara puts it, “An Indiana Jones movie”. Still, stranger artifacts lay hidden in Nanda Parbat. Including, until recently, the one that raised her beloved from the dead.

Nyssa shivers. It’s been nearly three days since she thought of Sara’s death.

Jax brings the conversation back to topic.

“So the Legion wanted the medallion so that they can get the Spear.”

“So what do they want with the Spear?” Amaya asks.

“Well, this Spear allegedly has the power to rewrite reality,” Nate says over-dramatically.

Still, another shiver trickles down Nyssa’s spine.

Nate confirms her intuition when he points out the key difference between time travel and altering reality: changes in reality are permanent.

Sara leans forward.

“Great,” she self-recriminates. “And I just handed them the medallion.”

“Whoa,” Jax tries to intervene in her guilt. “In exchange for Gray’s life. Any one of us would have made that call.”

“Would Rip?” Sara asks, suddenly so distant.

Nyssa usually abstains from public affection, but she lays a hand on Sara’s shoulder now. Sara barely registers the contact for a moment, then lifts a hand to gently squeeze Nyssa’s.

No one says anything, and Sara dismisses them all for the night.

Nyssa has heard little about the Waverider’s former captain, and this sudden reference has settled a darkness on Sara’s shoulders.

“Your choice has been made. There is no reason to agonize over it.”

“You didn’t like it then.”

Nyssa acknowledges that with a shrug.

“But it was your choice. You weighed your priority - your team member’s life - against an unknown future danger. Now the danger is known, and we can only face it on the terms we now have.”

“Yeah.” Sara gives her a tight smile. “Thanks.”

Nyssa pulls on their conjoined hands.

“Come. Let’s go back to bed.”

 

***

 

Later, Nate calls Sara into the library, Nyssa in tow, for the world’s tiniest aberration, but it _is_ League-related. Two bikers killed before their time, each by a textbook League of Assassins technique.

“Aren’t Darhk and Merlyn former LOA?” Nate asks them both.

“Do not call it that,” Nyssa says quickly. Nate nods his apology.

Sara gives her a tight smile. They haven’t really gotten to talk about that whole disbanding the League thing, yet. Add that one to the list.

“They must be getting closer to the Holy Lance,” Sara says, because why else would they be in LA in the 1960s?

“I’m leaning towards Spear of Destiny,” Nate says, even as Sara heads out to assemble the rest of the crew.

“I prefer Holy Lance,” Sara calls over her shoulder.

“Can’t imagine why,” Nate snarks, even as Nyssa says, “Of course you do.”

Sara can feel them smiling behind her. As much as she hates getting ganged up on, she does like Nyssa starting to fit in with the crew.

“Gideon,” Sara calls. “Set a course for the point of origin of the aberration.”

“I already have - Hollywood, 1967.”

 

***

 

They track the stolen motorcycles from the tiny aberration to a film school studio, dressed in late sixties abominations of outfits.

Nyssa gets to come into the field this time, even though she can see the anxiety lingering under Sara’s skin about it. This is recon, though. Violence is unlikely.

They proceed without Mick or Dr. Stein, which does worry Nyssa. Both are good in unexpected situations: Dr. Stein for his ability to merge with Jax into Firestorm, Mick for his fire-spewing gun and no fear of death.

Ray expresses a similar worry.

“Hope he figures it out pretty soon, because if the Legion of Doom is here-“

“Really like how that name is catching on,” Nate interjects.

Nyssa does not.

“We’re going to need Mick and Firestorm.”

“Let’s figure out what’s going on, first,” Sara interjects.

Sara’s crew really is far too chatty for Nyssa’s taste, but it isn’t her place to say so here in the open. On the mission, Sara is in command.

Nyssa can respect a chain of command.

They stroll casually across the campus until they encounter Damien Darhk and Malcolm Merlyn harassing a pair of scruffy, malnourished students.

“Oh my god,” Sara exclaims, taking away the element of surprise. “It’s Rip.”

A fight breaks out. “Rip” seems to have no earthly idea who any of them are and runs for cover. Some leader.

They should be winning this fight, given the numerical advantage. And they are doing so, even though Nyssa must hold back against her better judgment in order to avoid killing Darhk at least (removing him so soon from the timeline could have effects Sara will not risk, and which Nyssa agrees to not risk until Gideon does the time math).

At least they are winning the fight, until Malcolm sneers, eyes locked on Nyssa and in easy hearing range of Sara:

“My, my. If it isn’t Mrs. Oliver Queen.”

Nyssa falters, and so does Sara, brow wrinkling, “What the fuck is he-“

The local authorities arrive, further complicating matters, and Sara tears her eyes away from Nyssa long enough to order them to fall back rather than risk an altercation with the 1967 police force. Sara doesn’t look at her again, the whole way to the Waverider.

 

***

 

Sara is all business back on the ship, trying to figure out how Rip Hunter got to 1967, why he could not apparently remember any of them, and how they were going to get to him now that the local police had him in custody.

The team works out that if Darhk and Merlyn are here for Rip (like Sara, Nyssa refuses to call them the Legion of Doom), then the medallion must have led them here. Thus, the former Captain Hunter has, somewhere, a piece of the Spear of Destiny.

And they must find him before the Speedster’s minions do.

Sara sends them all to regroup while she makes the plan.

“Not you,” Sara says to Nyssa, grabbing the sleeve of her absurdly flowing top and pulling her back. It’s a motion Nyssa has taken other people’s hands off for, but Sara may touch her however she pleases. She stays behind.

Raymond also lingers. Nyssa wishes he wouldn’t, but Sara does not seem to care.

“Sara…” she tries to head off the questions, but Sara is wound up and ready to go.

“What the fuck was Merlyn talking about back there? Because I figured he was just crazy, but your face did something. When he called you _Mrs. Oliver Queen_.”

“Oliver Queen and I are, in fact, by the laws of the League, married.”

“What?!”

“Look, Sara, she didn’t exactly have a say in the matter,” Ray interjects. Nyssa must fight every instinct to hit him.

“Ray knew?!” Sara cries.

Raymond’s face reflects that he at least understands the horrible mistake he made in trying to play chivalrous savior here. He begins to back away.

“And what does he mean you didn’t have any say in the matter?” Sara demands.

“My father, towards the end of his life, saw fit to demote me in favor of Oliver Queen, who he was as inexplicably enamored with as both you and your sister were. In order to seal this deal of claiming Oliver as his Heir, he, also inexplicably, felt the need to compel me to marry Oliver.”

“Compel you.”

“Death was the alternative. I did consider it.”

Sara’s face contains a multitude of emotions.

“And Oliver was okay with this?” she asks, icy and low.

“It was not his first choice. I discovered later that he had a plan, involving Merlyn, to kill my father, and he could not, apparently, risk revealing that plan too soon by objecting to the marriage.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Sara, that’s not- It wasn’t consummated.”

Now Sara looks sick.

“That is-“ She takes a deep breath. “Killing him is still on the table. Why didn’t you tell me?”

For that, Nyssa has no easy answer. The hurt in Sara’s eyes lingers for a moment, and then she is the captain again:

“I can’t do this right now. We have to go get Rip. And I need you to stay here.”

“Sara…”

“Stay. Here.”

 

***

 

Sara really wants to punch something. Really, really bad.

Instead she’s dressed like a nurse, with Orderly Mick and Psychiatrist Stein in tow. They’ve been acting weird, so she’s glad to get them out in the field and less… cooped up.

Focusing on Mick and Martin’s weirdness and sneaking Rip out of the police station is at least kind of distracting her from the anger and sadness. There is a big old blank in her knowledge of Nyssa’s life, and her friends, her family, were intimately involved. Her Nyssa was…

She shakes off the line of thought. She needs to focus. It’s not like she even bothered to ask…

The Rip they find in the interrogation room is not the Rip they remember. His confusion is not an act, but that’s a problem for when they get back to the ship. She has Mick knock the screaming “Phil Gassmer” unconscious, and they make a getaway.

Almost.

Darhk and Merlyn make an appearance, of course. They try to beat them out of the station by meeting the Waverider on the roof.

They’re not quick enough.

It’s a firefight and a mad dash, but they do make it onto the ship, in no small part due to a covering fire of arrows from the ship’s resident archer.

As Jax and Nate bundle the clearly disoriented Rip off to the med bay, Sara stands face to face with Nyssa and her bow. Undrawn, of course.

“Thanks for the save,” Sara says. She tries to smile, but it must not work well. Nyssa doesn’t smile back, and she almost always does.

“We had a deal. You were not to bench me again. I get to watch your back.”

She says it evenly, but Sara knows she is mad.

But not too mad.

“You did watch my back.”

“From too far away,” Nyssa counters.

“I get to bench you when having you with me is a distraction,” Sara argues.

“No. That is exactly what Merlyn was trying to do. To separate us. Sow dissension. Sara, I will not stand for it.” She’s drawn up, ready for a fight, and Sara’s so far gone, ‘cause she finds mad Nyssa hot as hell. Which is so confusing when they’re fighting.

“I’m the captain.”

“Yes. And as such, you cannot let this,” she gestures between them, “Interfere with how you run your missions. You must separate it. And believe me: I am acutely aware of how difficult that is. You made a promise. No matter how angry you are with me, you must honor it, or this cannot work.”

“I’m not mad at you!” Sara cries, gaping.

Nyssa gives her a skeptical look.

“Don’t get me wrong; I’m _mad_. At a lot of people. Including myself. But not you.”

Nyssa softens.

She’s such a force of nature, Sara thinks. But underneath all of that, there’s still a little girl who was never loved enough, so she never thinks she deserves it. She feels sick, knowing what Ra’s al Ghul did to…

_“Captain? I am sorry to interrupt, but you should come to the med bay as soon as you can.”_

Sara sighs.

“The mission,” Nyssa reminds, gesturing her out of the cargo bay.

“You’re right.” She ventures a kiss to Nyssa’s cheek. She gets a small smile in return. She heads towards the med bay but pauses and turns to look at her, a finger pointing. “What happened, with your dad and Merlyn and Ollie? That was not okay, Nyssa. _Not at all okay._ ”

 

***

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: I'm hoping to devote November to my novel, so this fic may be on a bit of a hiatus... [OR, I'll write a ton as procrastination, knowing my muse.] I'll be back in December though, I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 7 months, but I always said I'd keep at it! Thank you for our patience. It's truly kept me going.

 

The former Captain Hunter has had his personality completely rewritten by physical contact with the time drive.

Drs. Palmer and Heywood have been rendered useless by their encounter with George Lucas. Apparently, Mr. Lucas was with Captain Hunter when Merlyn and Darhk attacked him, and the trauma forced him to drop out film school. Thus, Mr. Lucas never made Star Wars or Indiana Jones. While Nyssa must admit that such a change in the timeline is disappointing, she has not completely lost her ability to think due to such alteration, unlike their historian and their inventor.

Sara sends Raymond and Nathaniel to convince Mr. Lucas to go back to film school. More importantly, she sends Ms. Jiwe to make sure their task is actually completed.

Meanwhile, Nyssa and Jefferson reviewed the evidence they recovered from the film set and Sara, much like the archer they are not currently discussing, broods in her office. Whether she is more upset by Captain Hunter’s state or Malcolm Merlyn’s revelations, is unclear.

It is the screenplay for Captain Hunter’s movie that holds their most relevant clue: the former captain has been using his repressed memories to create a film about Sara’s crew and the Holy Lance. Jax leaps to his feet to go tell Sara, Nyssa right behind him. They find Sara locked in intense conversation with Captain Hunter in the office.

An interrogation of “this burn out”, as Sara calls him, reveals that, in the script at least, the Spear has been divided into multiple pieces, Rip Hunter holding only one.

He further reveals that his inspiration, a piece of old wood that is clearly at least part of the Spear is currently in the possession of George Lucas.

Mr. Lucas has just been kidnapped, along with Nate, Ray, and Amaya.

Sara, Jax, and Nyssa suit up. Nyssa appreciates that Sara only vaguely looks like she wants to vomit as Nyssa pulls on her leathers. When they go to collect Mr. Rory and Dr. Stein, they find them in the medbay.

Dr. Stein is performing brain surgery on Mr. Rory. There is no time to ask questions, though.

The ensuing fight, in the middle of the city dump, is interrupted by Captain Hunter, seemingly recovered. Sara’s face lights up when he arrives, in leather duster and British accent, to save the day.

Except… He is not truly himself. Just a silly man, playing at his former self, and nearly getting them all killed.

He did not even load his gun.

At least he brought the Waverider and Gideon’s aim along. That allows nearly all of them to escape… except the former captain.

As the Speedster steals Rip Hunter out of their reach, Jax and Nyssa have to drag a screaming Sara onto the ship.

Now Nyssa has quite a few questions herself. She guesses she might as well add them to the list.

 

***

 

“Hey. Where’s your better half?”

Of course Jax found her down here in the cargo bay, pouting with their recovered bit of the Spear. Jax always knows where to find her.

“I asked for some space,” Sara admits, feeling guilty about it.

“Yeah, what’s going on with you two?”

Sara waves off the question, unable to even begin to process it. Plus, that isn’t her information to share. It’s Nyssa’s.

“Look, you couldn’t have got him,” Jax changes tacks from one source of guilt to the other. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Sara says, hoping he’ll believe it.

“Sara, you can’t beat yourself up about this.”

“It is my responsibility as captain to make sure _everyone_ gets back on the ship. _Everyone._ And I failed.”

“You call getting a piece of the Spear of Destiny _and_ the medallion a _failure_?” sweet Jax asks, incredulous. “The Legion have nothing.”

Sara scoffs and turns on him. “They have Rip!”

“But they won’t have him for long. If I know one thing about you, it’s that you don’t give up. And if you really want something, you are unstoppable, and God help anyone who gets in your way. Also, your girlfriend is even scarier.”

Sara laughs a little, and Jax presses on:

“We are going to find him, and we are going to bring him back.”

“Is that a promise?” Sara asks, just a bit hopeful.

Jax looks her straight in the eyes and says:

“That’s a prophesy.”

 

***

 

Sara finds Nyssa alone on the bridge, seated in what has become her usual seat. And despite everything, it is so amazing that Nyssa has a usual seat on the Waverider.

“You asked for space, habibti. It is a small ship, but I am endeavoring to give it to you.”

“I know; I take it back. I’m ready to talk when you are.”

 She displays her peace offering: a bottle of whisky and two glasses. Nyssa gives her a small laugh.

“Alcohol does not solve every problem. You of all people should know that.”

“It can help,” Sara insists, pouring them each one and slumping into the seat next to Nyssa. “At least that’s what al-Sakin used to say.”

Nyssa does smile then, thinking of their old compatriot.

“Yes, you and he both drank far too much by League standards.”

“By most standards,” Sara assures her. She looks out at the time streaming past the viewscreen. “I do miss the League, sometimes. It was… simpler.”

“For you, perhaps. Back then I was the one in command,” Nyssa says dryly.

“Yeah,” Sara says wistfully. “That was nice.” She pauses. “Also back then, I knew everything about you.”

“Sara…”

“Look, I’m not entitled to know. I get that. I was dead, and then I left you in that dungeon, but-“

“Sara…”

“But I hate it, Nyssa! I hate that they put you through that. I hate that you didn’t know what was going on. I hate that you _let them_ get away with disrespecting you like that. You can take Merlyn! Why is he still alive? And god, I hate that you think you’re married.”

“Sara!”

Sara startles into silence, feeling her blood rush hot. The blood lust never truly went away, and she feels it all the more now.

“You are entitled to know, habibti. We are together, and I have never been one to keep things from you. I did not know how to broach this topic, did not know how we could have this conversation. But I certainly do not consider myself _married._ Though I do find I appreciate your jealousy on some level.”

Sara finds herself flushed from embarrassment rather than rage now.

“So what did happen?”

Nyssa recounts it all clinically, coolly. Tracking her killer in Starling, her father’s betrayal, the rise of Al-Sahim, and Oliver’s ultimate treason, handing the League of Assassins over to Malcolm Merlyn.

When it’s over, Sara looks away from Nyssa’s penetrating gaze and asks the real question that’s been haunting her since she found out. She asks it tentatively, not wanting Nyssa to hear any blame in it, but needing to know.

“So why did you _let_ any of it happen?” she finally gets out. She hurries to explain: “Oliver, Merlyn, your dad – you’re smarter than all of them, Nyssa. You should have been able to outmaneuver them in your sleep. So what happened?”

The silence that follows is so long that Sara has to look up from the whiskey in her glass, has to make sure she said that right. Nyssa opens her mouth a few times, and when she finally speaks, it is heavy with pain:

“I lost you.” It hangs between them, as it has since they reunited. “And I found I did not care what happened, whether I lived or died, any of it. I did not deserve happiness or peace, because I-“

“Because you what?”

“Because I let you die.”

“Nyssa, you couldn’t have-”

“Yes, I could. And I should. I should have at least accompanied you to Star City.”

“Starling,” Sara corrects idly. Having been dead for the conversion, Sara finds the name change has never really stuck with her. “I was on thin ice with your dad as it was. I didn’t need you handholding.”

“Handholding and my father’s annoyance are a small price for you being alive,” Nyssa counters.

“You couldn’t have known-”

“I did, Sara. I did know. I have sent you on dozens of missions, and none of them felt like that. I should have acted upon that intuition.”

“But we’re here now,” Sara says, taking a hand to Nyssa’s soft cheek. Nyssa seems to relax at the touch. “I’m sorry, so, so, so sorry, that you had to go through all of that, and to go through it alone. If we had listened to your gut that night, you’re right – I might not have died, which means you wouldn’t have gone through that hell.” She gestures with her glass to time floating past. “And sitting here, on a freaking time machine, yeah. I’m tempted to go back and make us listen, somehow. But that’s a dangerous game.”

“And you have saved many people since your resurrection,” Nyssa notes. “To erase your death is to risk all of them.”

“Yeah,” Sara sighs. “Time travel is a bitch.”

Nyssa grins a little.

“I am catching on to that, yes.”

Sara takes in a deep breath.

“Are we okay?”

“I should be asking that,” Nyssa says.

“I’m the one who benched you, when I said I wouldn’t.”

“I’m the one who withheld information the enemy could use against us.”

“That.” Sara sighs. “Anything else I need to know when going up against Darhk and Merlyn?”

Nyssa shakes her head. “Not that I can think of. Damien and my father parted ways long before my birth. Can you think of anything you need to know about Merlyn?”

“Yeah: what did Merlyn do to you in that dungeon I left you in?” Sara asks, not sure if she wants to know the answer.

“Nothing,” Nyssa says openly. “He locked me down there and seemed to completely forget about me. Two meals a day. Sufficient water. Nothing else.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I believe there is a queue.”

Sara smiles.

“Together, then.”

Nyssa offers her glass. “Together.”

There’s enough in her glass that she feels comfortable clinking to that. She drinks down the rest of its contents as Nyssa does the same. Sara sets her glass on the ground with the bottle. Nyssa’s eyes say that knows what she is going to do next even before Sara starts to do it.

“I do not think Gideon likes it when we do this on the bridge,” she says as Sara straddles her in her seat.

“It _is_ awkward to explain to the other crew members why access to the bridge has been denied…” Gideon says.

“Bye, Gideon!” Sara calls.

She’s not sure how, but it does seem as if Gideon sighs at that.

Nyssa chuckles, hands comfortably on Sara’s hips. Sara’s hands bury in Nyssa’s hair.

“You are with me now. No matter what. I’m going to take care of you,” Sara swears, eye to eye.

“And I, you,” Nyssa promises in return. “I believe events have shown that we do better together.”

Sara grins wickedly. “Then Malcolm Merlyn better fucking run.”

 

***

 

“On the topic of things you and I should know about each other… Were you and Captain Hunter…” Nyssa asks, pulling her shirt back on.

“What? No,” Sara insists, searching for her own shirt.

“No?”

“He’s my captain. And my mentor. And my family. But no, never romantic,” Sara affirms, wiggling into her t-shirt.

“I apologize for asking, then, but… he based his film script around you. You are obviously important to him. And you seemed very distraught when he was not in fact himself.”

“You don’t have to apologize for asking. Clearly, we should be asking more,” she says a bit sardonically. “But no, not Rip. I… I told you, I’ve been with other people since…”

Nyssa nods. She understands, though it still stings fiercely.

“But no one more than a night or two. And… almost entirely women. I was… looking for something.”

Nyssa raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You! I was looking for you.”

Nyssa grins. “You know, I have not been very difficult to find…”

Sara throws a sock at Nyssa, who chuckles.

“You’re a brat,” Sara protests.

“I learned from the best.”

“No way,” Sara counters. “I found you like this.”

Nyssa grins, but it slowly fades.

“In digging into the time we were apart, we may discover more events that are… unsettling,” she says softly.

“I know.”

“I do not wish to jeopardize-“

“We’ll figure it out,” Sara interrupts, taking Nyssa’s hand. “All of it, together. I’m on your team, always. Speaking of teams, I think we need to assemble mine for a team dinner after all of that. But first I need to figure out what the hell is going on with the mid-mission brain surgery. Care to join me?”

 

***

 

They find Dr. Stein and Mr. Rory still in the medbay. Nyssa tries not to grin when Sara adorably plants her hands on her hips and says:

“Alright, so what the hell is going on with you two? Why were you performing brain surgery on him in the middle of the freaking mission?”

“I, ah, well,” Stein stammers. Nyssa is learning that his subterfuge skills are poor.

“I’m seeing Snart,” Rory says matter-of-factly. “Not a time ghost. Not a brain tumor. I’m just crazy.”

“I never said you were crazy!” the professor cries, exasperated.

Rory shrugs.

“I need a beer.” He moves to leave the medbay. Sara stops him with a hand to the chest.

“Hold on. You’re seeing Leonard?” Sara asks, more gently than Nyssa expected.

Rory also responds with a touch of softness.

“Yeah. The Snart in my head is kinda an asshole, though.”

“The Snart in real life was an asshole,” Sara counters fondly. “What is he saying?”

“Nothing important,” Mick closes up, starting to push forward again.

“Mick…” Sara says, even as she lets him go.

“Nothing important, boss,” Rory repeats on his way out.

That leaves Dr. Stein.

Sara turns with a wagging finger. “You. No more secrets. No more unauthorized brain surgery.”

“Understood, Captain,” he says sheepishly.

“Good. I’m gonna call a team dinner.”

“Capital idea. I volunteer to cook,” Stein attempts to get back in Sara’s good graces.

“That sounds great.”

“Ah, Ms., uh, al Ghul.” The team still struggles with what to call her; the professor most of all. “I so enjoyed your risotto the other night. Would you care to join me?”

Nyssa is quite honored by the request, and Sara fairly beams.

“Certainly, Professor.”

“You go on ahead, Martin,” Sara grins and shoos. “I’ll send her on in a minute.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Sara’s grin fades a little once they’re alone.

“So, in the spirit of sharing things, you should know that Leonard Snart and I were… Well, we were good friends, and it could have one day been more, maybe. We kissed, once, when he sacrificed himself.”

“Ah.”

The jealousy flashes hot under her skin, but Nyssa does her best to tamp it down. It is uncalled for: she released Sara from their bonds, and she cannot be angry that Sara carried on other relationships.

“It wasn’t actually anything but a maybe,” Sara assures her, and Nyssa finds it does help. It also explains much that surprised her about Sara’s conversation with Rory. “I just don’t want it to come up later when a perfectly good opportunity for sharing came up. See? We can share!”

Nyssa rolls her eyes fondly and teases. “Very well done.”

“Thank you.” Sara pushes up to kiss her. “Now go make me dinner.”

She slaps Nyssa’s ass for effect, and Nyssa nearly pins her against the bulkhead in retaliation. No time for that, though, so Nyssa settles for a droll “This Captaincy has gone straight to your head!” on her way out the door.

Sara’s laugh follows her down the hall, and for the first time since she saw Malcolm Merlyn again, Nyssa feels like they are going to be alright.

 

***

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'alllllllllllll.

 

Nyssa still struggles to feel at home on this ship.

In Sara’s arms, at Sara’s side, that all feels like _home_.

Elsewhere, apart from Sara, that still feels… awkward. It’s chaotic, this time-floating frat-house, and she finds little about which to relate with her fellow crewmates outside of their daily combat training. She can talk music and literature with Professor Stein, certainly, but despite his recent best efforts, she can still feel his discomfort around her. Ms. Jiwe is a capable fighter, and in the context of battle, they get along just fine, but Amaya is closed off and mourning. Nyssa knows from experience that it will not be easy to get to know her, and she herself has never had great prowess in forming close bonds. Drs. Palmer and Heywood are… irksome, most days, despite their earnest kindness. She does her best to breed affection for them, but it is not natural.

Even in the context of the mission, as in the previous week’s attempt to discover the processes behind the medallion, Nyssa does not yet understand what she offers the crew besides brawn. She is neither scientist nor historian, and her father closely guarded his mystic knowledge, making her unhelpful on that front as well. She has trained all her life to lead and to kill, but now Sara is leading and killing is frowned upon. They had ascertained the true purpose of the Medallion, a map, with the scientific expertise of Dr. Stein’s time aberration daughter (and more chaos, of course) while Nyssa… trained.

Watched Sara and her adorable braids lead quite well, if quite unconventionally. Done not much else.

There is, of course, thankfully, Jefferson.

Jefferson Jackson is Sara’s best friend.

It’s a strange thing, that Nyssa has known Sara for almost a decade and never seen that sort of relationship play out. The League and its hierarchical nature, and their tendency to get lost in each other, had not left many opportunities to develop such close friendships. Her sister (and that still brings a pang to Nyssa) was different. Felicity is possibly the closest, but their time together was brief, and Nyssa did not get to witness much of it. (From her own, recently developed relationship with Ms. Smoak, Nyssa can appreciate the friendship they could have had.)

But Jax and Sara have a friendship of equals, Sara’s captaincy notwithstanding, a deep loyalty built through time and forged in battle.

And Nyssa finds she is actually quite fond of him.

He is a diligent student in her combat training. In return, she asked him to explain the engines to her, to further her studies into time travel and the _Waverider_ herself. He is likewise an excellent teacher.

Sara finds them in the engine room one afternoon, underneath the main containment unit for the time drive, and Nyssa must admit she has no idea how long Sara had been there before she announced herself with a cheeky:

“If you’re gonna get greased up and horizontal with my girl, Jax, you could at least close the engine room door.”

Nyssa rolls her eyes, but Jax quips:

“Nah, Sara. I tried to convince her of the error of her ways, but she’s only got eyes for you.”

Sara is grinning so beautifully, so happily, and Nyssa feels light, so incredibly light.

“How are my favorite grease monkeys today?”

Here, with Sara and Jefferson, she does feel like her new normal could some day _feel_ normal, or close to.

“We are working on some very crucial elements of the motivator units and – you are asleep,” Nyssa sighs as she rolls herself out, Jax close behind.

Sara adds a fake snore for dramatic effect.

“Knowledge of the ship’s inner workings could save your life, habibti,” Nyssa chides.

“I know, but I have you two!” Sara defends.

“I’ve been trying forever,” Jax tells Nyssa, handing her a rag from the pile. “She’s freaking stubborn.”

“I am well aware,” Nyssa says archly.

Sara grins at them both.

“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt such important business,” Sara begins.

“Nah, we’re done,” Jax waves her off. He nods to Nyssa. “Thanks for the assist.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Nyssa assures him. “I’m going to go clean up before dinner.”

 

***

 

Nyssa kisses her cheek on the way out the door, a sign of her comfort level with Jax compared to the rest of the team. Sara keeps grinning as she leaves, her face even starting to hurt from how happy these two make her.

“Thank you. For making Nyssa feel welcome.”

“Hey. You love her? I love her. Simple as that.” Jax grins. “But she’s pretty cool besides.”

“Yeah,” Sara grins. “She _is_ pretty cool.”

“But scary,” Jax quickly adds. “Very scary. Yesterday Ray accidentally spilled his coffee on her breakfast. I thought he was going to piss himself. And she didn’t even say anything! Just _stared_.”

“Aww, her bark’s worse than her bite,” Sara lies.

“C’mon. She’s been killing people since she was nine.”

Sara’s surprised Nyssa shared that already with Jax. Surprised, and proud.

“Yeah, okay. Her bite’s worse.”

She pauses.

“No,” Jax says when her grin turns wicked. “Don’t even say it.”

Sara holds up her hands in surrender.

“Thank you,” Jax says. “The rest of the crew will start to see through the scary some day. I mean, most of them. Fifty-fifty on Nate. He may provoke her into killing him first.”

“Nyssa will not kill Nate,” Sara rolls her eyes.

Jax shrugs. “She might. She’ll be justified, though.”

Sara punches his shoulder fondly.

“You should go clean up, too. Even time mechanics get smelly.”

“Alright, Captain. According to Ray’s chore wheel, Mick’s cooking tonight, so I hope you like flame-broiled, uh, everything.”

“Delicious.”

 

***

 

“ETA on our next Spear piece, Gideon?” Sara asks as she and Jax enter the library a few days later on their regular rounds.

“I’m going as quickly as I can, Captain, unless you would like me to reroute power from life support?”

“Lippy this morning, Gideon. I like it.”

“I wasn’t kidding.”

Sara grins. “Alright, let’s save that option for last, I-“

The _Waverider_ rocks with the full force of a time quake.

“What now?” Jax complains.

“The origin of the shockwave is December 25, 1776,” Gideon announces.

Sara is already hurrying towards the bridge, picking up crewmembers as she goes.

“Washington crossing the Delaware,” Nate says like it’s Jeopardy.

“Unfortunately, it appears that General Washington was murdered on December 24th.”

Sara groans. “That is 100% a trap.”

“And if we don’t change it, America never exists,” Ray counters.

“That does not sound too terrible…” Nyssa comments, and Amaya chuckles.

“The creation of the United States is integral to the timel-“ Nate huffs.

“She’s joking, Nate,” Jax interjects. “I mean mostly.”

Nyssa nods to him in understanding.

“Without Washington’s sneak attack across the Delaware, the Revolution putters out, and we have no democracy,” Ray says.

“Or Hamilton,” Nate adds.

“So like I said: trap,” Sara nods once, point made.

“Surely you don’t suggest we do nothing,” Martin frets.

“No, we’re going to go save Washington. We’re just going to be really careful about it,” Sara sighs, heading for the pilot’s chair, her team falling in step behind her.

“Where do we even find Washington?” Amaya asks.

Nate starts rattling on about Christmas Eve dinner parties that he apparently just knows about off the top of his head. Sara sighs again and looks over her shoulder. She gives Nyssa a wink before pulling the safety bar over her chest and blasting off for 1776.

 

***

 

It’s all hands on deck, and Sara is very proud of herself for not even hesitating before giving Nyssa her assignment. Mick’s posing as a Continental Army private, Ray is tiny and buzzing about, and the rest are blending in as guests as they can.

“They all sound more like you than me,” Sara grins, sipping on eighteenth century eggnog and eying Nyssa.

“And they are all alarmingly white,” Nyssa counters with a raised eyebrow.

“Unless you go into the kitchen,” Jax complains, sidling up beside them. “Time travelling while black is a trip.”

Sara gives him a sympathetic smile. “Anyone got eyes on our general yet?”

“Not yet, Captain,” Stein says in her ear. “Although the lady of the house does report that he has already arrived.”

“Alright, split up and keep me updated.”

Sara takes an extra moment to watch Nyssa walk away in her 18th century get up and earns a reproachful glare over her shoulder. She grins and turns away, right into General George Washington himself.

“ _Here comes the General_ ,” Sara murmurs under her breath, because Nate and Ray pretty much _only_ listen the _Hamilton_ soundtrack these days.

“Excuse me?” Washington asks politely.

“Good evening, General,” she recovers.

“Good evening. It’s a lovely party, don’t you think?”

“You’d almost forget a war was going on,” she replies, and he inclines his head gracefully, acknowledging the shot landed.

“An army runs on its stomach, madam, and my army’s is quite empty. Each wealthy donor who I can convert to the cause means lives saved, and tyranny overthrown.”

Mick joins them with a half-assed salute, and Sara plunges ahead before Mick can open his mouth.

“Listen, I know this sounds crazy, but I need you to come with us.”

“Why would I-?”

A cracking door and machine gun fire cut off her next words. Red Coats with totally era-inappropriate weaponry have taken the house.

“You gotta go,” she says, pushing him towards the door. Then to her team at large, “Guys, let’s wrap this up, and try not to get any founding fathers killed, huh?”

“No! We should stand and fight,” Washington objects as she pushes him into Mick, shoving them both to the door.

“What about founding mothers?” Ray asks.

“Yeah, Captain! The Schuyler Sisters would be so disappointed,” Nate teases.

Sara ignores them and shakes her head towards Washington.

“You have somewhere else you need to be. Believe me, the future of the revolution depends on it,” she says, flagging down Jax and Nyssa. “I’ll stand and fight. You go with them. I’ll explain everything later.”

 

***

 

Jax, Nyssa, and Mick hustle George Washington out into the cold Christmas Eve night. They come face to face with armed Red Coats led by Rip Hunter in Royal Army colors.

“Pity. I’d hoped I’d run into Miss Lance,” Rip says. There is a sinister edge to him that makes Jax queasy.

“Look, Rip, I don’t know what the Legion did to you, but-“

Rip pays him no mind, simply leveling his handgun at Nyssa and casually shooting her square in the gut.

“She’ll do just as well.”

Everything goes still for a moment, and all Jax can think is:

She’s so small.

It’s a strange thought, in this dire moment, but up until that bullet pierced her flesh, Nyssa had seemed larger than life to him. Strong, imposing, tall but more than that: her presence filled the room, even when she wasn’t the one giving the orders.

Until he had to catch her and lift her into his arms, Jax had never considered that he _could._

He does, though.

“The Legion has _freed_ me, Jax.”

Rip Hunter walks away with Rory and Washington, and Jax scoops up the gut-shot Nyssa and runs towards the _Waverider_.

“Sara, get back to the ship,” he says as calmly as he can.

“I’m a little-“

“Now.”

“Don’t bother her with-“ Nyssa starts in his arms, breath ragged.

“Now, Sara,” Jax repeats.

There’s a sharp intake in breath over the comms.

“On my way.”

 

***

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

 

Sara leaves Amaya, Nate, and Ray fighting Redcoats in the house, sprinting out into the cold, cursing her stupid eighteenth century dress and shoes. Nyssa’s shaky words, her insistence that Sara _not_ come, had sent an icy wave of fear through Sara’s veins. She runs as fast as the snow and her shoes will allow.

Her team is right behind her, though.

Halfway from the _Waverider_ ’s gangplank to the medbay, the lights flicker. She cannot deal with that right now. She skids into the medbay, and her heart drops into her stomach.

Nyssa is so tiny and so pale, gray with blood loss, and her eyes flutter at the edge of unconsciousness. Blood spreads from her stomach.

Gut shot.

No.

“Gideon!  Gideon, why aren’t you fixing her?!” Sara demands.

“The Redcoats appear to have hit us with an electromagnetic pulse,” Stein says, far too gently. Sara wants to hit him. “Gideon’s functions are severely hampered.”

Sara takes Nyssa’s hand and presses her other palm to her face. It’s clammy and too warm. Sara thinks she might puke. Her whole life is bleeding out in this medbay bed.

“ _Nyssa_ , _hold on, okay_?” Sara begs in Arabic, kissing her forehead. “ _I’ll fix this_.” She turns her attention to a bloodstained Jax. “Who did this?”

She feels the edge in her voice, knows murder is what comes next.

Jax is gray and shaky, which halfway answers her question.

“Rip,” he confirms.

Sara nods once, firmly.

“Sara, listen. The Legion has brainwashed him. He’s not himself. He didn’t-“

“I don’t care,” Sara answers honestly. She looks to Martin. “Can you fix her?”

“Captain, I am not a doctor, I-“

She stares him down.

“I- I’ll do everything I can.”

She nods again.

“Sara-“ Jax starts.

“Watch the ship. Where’s Ray? I need you two to get the _Waverider_ up and running.” Sara toggles on her earpiece. “Nate, Amaya. Meet me in the cargo bay. We’re going hunting.”

There’s no response. Of course: EMP. She’ll have to go find them.

“Sara,” Jax tries again, but it is another voice that calls her back.

“ _Habibti…”_

Sara turns back, feels the tears coming and refuses, refuses to shed them. She sets her teeth and steps forward.

“Just hold on and let us get you fixed up, okay?” she says faux-brightly, as if she is fooling anyone at all, least of all Nyssa.

“Finish the mission.”

Sara hates how Nyssa is always right.

“I will,” she says, taking Nyssa’s hand in hers and kissing the back of it softly, careless of dirt and blood.

 “You will regret killing him,” Nyssa says, her voice too rough for Sara’s liking.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Sara says. “Rest, okay? Just rest.”

“Sara…”

“ _I hear you_ ,” Sara promises in Arabic. “ _You focus on getting better._ ” She kisses Nyssa’s hairline again. “ _I need you to get better.”_

Nyssa looks ready to fight more, but the siren call of unconsciousness is growing louder. Sara gives her another fake smile and turns back to Jax.

“Where’s Washington?”

“Rip took him. And Mick.”

Sara nods again. Alright, she can kill two birds with one stone. She knows she should say more, but she can’t. She needs to kill Rip Hunter. And she needs to not be in this ridiculous dress to do so.

 

***

 

Jax finds the _Waverider_ far too quiet. Sara took Nate and Amaya to track down Rip and Washington, he can’t find Ray, and Martin is nearly shaking with the nerves of being left in charge of a possibly mortally wounded assassin who happens to be the love of their captain’s life, and, depending on the day, Jax’s second favorite teammate.  

Jax decides it’s time to get the power back up and running. Without comms, he cannot waste more time looking for Ray, so he heads towards the engine room to see what he can do. He is frozen in his tracks, though, as he passes the cargo bay and hears the ominous clanging against the sealed up gangplank of the _Waverider_.

Invasion.

Shit.

With Ray nowhere in sight, he turns back to the medbay and announces:

“We’re under attack. Firestorm time.”

Gray gamely holds out his hand, and Jax smacks it… to no avail. He tries again. And again.

Shit.

“The EMP appears to have temporarily inhibited our power.”

“Where the hell is Ray? Okay, lock the door behind me.”

“Jefferson.”

“Lock the door.”

Jax spares a final look over his shoulder at Nyssa, breathing still, however labored.

Time to _Home Alone_ this shit.

 

***

 

It’s Rip who finally leads a squad of soldiers onto the _Waverider_ on a quest for their piece of the Spear of Destiny.

Rip on whom his “Merry Christmas, you filthy animal” reference is lost.

Rip who loses one Redcoat at a time to Jax’s booby traps.

Rip who calmly walks through the ship, telling Jax what a hopeless moron he is.

Rip who makes it into the medbay, knocks Martin unconscious, and stares directly into Jax’s eyes while hovering ominously over a vulnerable Nyssa al Ghul.

“The Spear, Jefferson.”

Jax had of course recovered the piece of the Spear rather than let Rip stumble upon it in the telescope that had been in its hiding place, thinking it safer on him than left to chance. It burns in his hand now, the bargain he refuses to make.

“I know she doesn’t mean anything to you, Rip, but she’s a part of our team! She’s Sara’s… everything. Think of Sara.”

“You say that like it’s supposed to mean something.”

He snaps Nyssa’s neck.

Jax is unfamiliar with this kind of rage. It paralyzes him.

“The Spear, now. Or you and the good Professor will join Ms. al Ghul here.”

Rip takes the piece of wood out of Jefferson’s hand and walks right out the door.

But Jax isn’t that far behind.

 

***

 

Sara’s tracking expedition to the British camp had successfully turned up both Rory and General Washington, moments before a scheduled hanging, but Rip was nowhere in sight.

The comm crackles back to life in her ear. Before Sara can even process the relief, Professor Stein’s voice comes over the line.

“Sara…” he says, uncharacteristically and far too sympathetically.

“Martin? Martin! What’s going on?”

Amaya touches a hand to her totem, and an elephant leaps in front of her sad eyes. Sara doesn’t even process it until she tries to run to the ship, and Amaya stops her, impossible to move.

“There’s nothing you can do now,” Amaya says softly.

Sara’s never felt this cold.

They’re wrong. They have to be wrong.

No.

_No._

“Let me go, Amaya,” Sara hears herself say, her mind already back at that ship, back in the medbay.

Amaya is looking over Sara’s shoulder. Oh right, Nate and Rory are there.

“ _I’m_ the Captain, Amaya. Let. Me. Go.”

Amaya sighs and steps aside. Sara doesn’t even feel her feet touch the ground as she runs back to the ship.

Sara refuses to live like this. This is one loss too many. She will kill Rip Hunter, and then she is done with this whole fucking life thing.

She will not live like this.

She repeats it as a mantra and comes to back in the medbay, staring right into the lifeless face of the woman she has loved more than anything, for so long.

Gideon is saying something, but Sara doesn’t hear it. Her legs give out, knees slamming into the _Waverider_ ’s hard metal deck, but Sara doesn’t feel it. She grabs at Nyssa’s cold, limp hand, bile rising and lungs protesting. Her forehead drops against Nyssa’s hip, and she reaches for anything she can get ahold of. Any piece that might still be Nyssa.

She doesn’t feel Gideon’s scans, nor the waves of energy she begins to use, searching out Nyssa’s remaining brain activity, working the science Sara cannot even begin to understand to undo the damage Rip did.

First, the spinal cord knits back together, healing the ultimate wound that killed her. Vertebra begin to repair. Then, the heart begins to beat even as veins and arteries and organs stitch themselves back together under Gideon’s direction, repairing the wound that would have killed her imminently.

Sara doesn’t notice until Nyssa’s lungs take a deep, gasping breath.

The world comes crashing back to her. She feels the tears pouring down her cheeks, the blood from where she’s bit her lip, the bruises forming on her knees.

Nyssa, breathing right in front of her.

There is a gentle hand on her shoulder. Martin delicately helps her to her feet and slides a stool in behind her. Her knees are still too shaky to stand, so she gratefully takes a seat.

“Gideon’s power has been restored. She is hopeful that she will be able to help Ms. al Ghul make a full recovery.”

“But…”

“Gideon’s definition of death is quite different from ours. So long as brain activity remains, so does the chance of resuscitation.”

Sara laughs. It’s all she can do. She clutches Nyssa’s hand tightly and watches every miraculous rise and fall of her chest, watches the color return to Nyssa’s cheeks and neck. She is still crying, but for different reasons now.

Some time later, seconds maybe, or hours, Nyssa’s eyes flutter open.

Sara’s breath catches in her throat.

“Nyssa…”

She begins to babble, she knows, in Arabic, in English, in whatever. Nyssa puts a blessedly warm hand against her cheek and stops her.

“ _I am here_.”

There is nothing more than can be said. Sara just stares into her eyes and hopes Nyssa can see everything she is feeling.

Martin finally intrudes.

“I do feel I must interrupt. It’s Jefferson. He’s gone after Captain Hunter.”

 

***

 

“You’re not going to shoot me.”

The gun shakes in Jax’s hand, but he is sure he is going to shoot him. Positive, even.

Definitely.

Eventually.

His eyes are hot, the cold December air freezes tears on his cheeks, but Nyssa is dead, and this monster who used to be his friend has betrayed them all. He has to kill him. He has to.

The gun begins to drop.

“You’re too weak, Jax. All of you useless Legends and your-“

Rip’s final tirade is abruptly ended by a stun blast from one of the _Waverider_ ’s future tech guns. He collapses like a marionette with cut strings.

Jax gapes as a winded, exhausted Nyssa al Ghul emerges from the brush behind him.

“Pick him up, Jefferson. I was just dead - I cannot be expected to do everything myself."

“What? Why?” Jax stammers helplessly.

“I couldn’t let Sara come for him: she would kill him, and we at least need him for information.”

“That’s not what I-“ Jax stops and shakes his head, placing his shoulder under the unconscious Rip Hunter’s and dragging him to his feet.

“Gideon healed me,” Nyssa supplies further.

Jax is still struggling to keep up. Using the stun gun to balance, Nyssa slowly leans down to retrieve the piece of Spear from the mud.

 “I am told we also rescued General Washington and set the timeline back on course.”

“… Did you knock Sara unconscious?”

“What?”

Jax huffs from the effort of dragging 180 pounds of unconscious Brit down the muddy road.

“How the hell did she let you come out here alone?”

“Gideon may have assisted.”

“I see.”

Nyssa nods and the two of them make their very slow way through the cold Christmas morning.

“How are we going to keep her from killing him once we get back to the ship?”

Rip killed Nyssa. Sara had murder in her eyes when she just thought that Rip shot Nyssa. Jax cannot imagine, resurrection or no, that Sara is going to be happy about the idea of a living, breathing Rip Hunter.

“I am very persuasive.”

Jax laughs. He cannot help but laugh. He watched her die minutes ago, and here she is, alive and bossing the Captain around.

“I still want to kill him,” Jax admits.

“I understand.”

 

***

tbc


End file.
